After The Tone
by Edamessiah
Summary: You have [ONE] new message. Playing message.


_I keep the wolf from the door, but he calls me up_

_Calls me on the phone, tells me all the ways that he's gonna mess me up_

\- 'A Wolf At The Door (It Girl. Rag Doll)', Radiohead

You have, one, new message.

Playing message.

'Open up. Come on, fucking... fucking open the door. Open the _fucking_-'

It cuts off. Banging, crashing as he throws himself at the wood, echoing what I just heard twenty seconds ago. Twenty one seconds ago. Twenty two seconds ago. 'Open the FUCKING DOOR!' Smash. Twenty two seconds ago. The message keeps playing and I can hear the latex suffocating him, his canine panting heavy and damp inside his mask. Something clangs off the door. I hear him mumbling as the first message ends.

End of message.

You have, one, new message.

Playing message.

'I just want to-' Pause for breath. Paws. Hah. 'I just want to talk to you, I just fucking, I just want to FUCKING TALK.' Clang. Same clang, yeah. Eight seconds ago.

End of message.

The cabinet will hold a little longer than the door will. Better wood, thicker stuff, might be some iron in there. Then there's the table, and that's steel-edged, but doesn't have the weight for it. He'll kick it aside and then he'll-

You have, one, new message.

He can wait, fuck him. The window's jammed, why's it fucking jammed? Opens like a whore's legs for a hundred dollars any other day of the week but

You have, two, new messages.

Fine. Prick.

Playing first message.

'ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE. ANSWER ME. ANSWER ME. OPEN THE DOOR.' Smash, clang, etc. Twenty seven seconds. Hysterical shouting and, what's that, sobbing? Is he fucking crying? Smash. Twenty seven seconds. And this fucking window!

End of first message.

Playing second message.

Definitely crying. 'Please, please just let me in, I'll, I'm-' Breaks of, the weeping distorted by the mask. It's awful, like a choking animal. I can't not listen. 'Please, let me in, please, God, fucking please, just fucking OPEN THE DOOR.' Smash.

End of second message.

Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Smash. Clang. Smash.

You have, one, new message.

Playing message.

'I don't want to kill you. I mean it.' Fuck that, fuck you, lying shit. 'I don't I just want to come in. And talk. Or just, or just answer the phone, just pick up the FUCKING-' Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Smash. Clang. Smash. Nine seconds.

End of message.

Well he's not coming in and he's not getting her back, either. Mine now, for what it's worth. Not unless I get this window, this FUCKING WINDOW. Gotta open it, maybe throw something through?

Clang. Smash. Crack. Crack? The door, gone, splinters fly as his voice comes through the crack.

You have, one, new message.

Perfect.

Smash. Not him, me, the answering machine solving my window problem. Night outside, cars somewhere below, streetlight-bleached purple sky. Here he is, peeping through the crack. His arm's come through and I give it a slash. Fuck off, yeah, scream, whatever. Dropped the knife doing it, that's gone, but it leaves a big enough gash. Cut right through that stupid fucking coat he's always wearing. The crying and yelling in the mask is doing my head in, and- fuck, no, don't wake up, go the fuck to sleep, stop.

'Is that you? Baby, is that you? Can you hear me?' Fuck OFF, she's not yours! Arm comes back, I jab the wound with a fist, more screaming. Her and him, now. Bad as each other. Couple of beer bottles on the floor, I break one open on the wall.

'Don't you fucking hurt her you piece of shit! You fucking asshole, don't you-' Smash, throws himself at the crack, it bulges a bit, like a pregnancy. How long till it gives? Not long, but the window's open now. His arm comes through - there's a mistake, you fucked up buddy, you fucked right the fuck _up_. Jam the bottle in there, right in good, break off a few shards in the gash. There's blood wiped around the crack in the door now while he's flailing and screaming like a fucking idiot. Guess the pregnancy miscarried. Shame.

'You fucking bastard! I'll fucking kill you, you prick! Do you hear me? Do you _fucking hear me_? I'm gonna fucking _eviscerate_ you, you fucking-' He stops to scream. His girl's screaming too, but there's sweet fuck all either of them can do about it. Need to get her out of the window, his car'll be on the street, the fire escape will-

'Baby can you hear me? Daddy's coming, daddy's coming for you!' Crazy bastard. No time left now, he'll be all blood frenzied. Grab the girl. She's sweet when she's sleeping, but now she's screaming, and those fucking baby fingers always freak me out. She's tucked under my arm while I clear the glass out the frame and squeeze through. Cold, fucking cold, but shit, I've got what I came for.

'Don't be scared baby! Daddy's coming!' About five minutes too late, by my reckoning. The cabinet'll hold him for ages while I'm getting down to the street, and then? Plain sailing, I guess. No problem. Job done. End of message.


End file.
